Good Night, My Angel
by HpFanficFan
Summary: For years a song has been playing over and over in Harry's head, what does it mean?


**Good Night, My Angel**

**By**

**Hpfanficfan**

**Summary: **Harry has a song stuck in his head, but he doesn't remember hearing it before._  
_

**Warning: **Canon character death

**IMPORTANT!** This _was_ a song fic. So with Critics United and co patrolling the streets, deleted stories left right and centre, I have decided to play it safe and removed the lyrics to the story. **To read the story with lyrics**, go to potions and snitches. I have the same username there, or just search for this fic. Trust me, it makes more sense with the lyrics in. Thanks

* * *

**1981**

"Severus it is time."

"Just give me another moment, Albus, please?"

Dumbledore looked at him sadly.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way. But…"

"I understand! I don't need you to remind me of what I am giving up or why I must do it!" Snape scathed. He knew what he had to do. Harry was better off with his muggle relatives. He was in no condition to raise a boy. He had sold his soul to the devil and there was no getting it back.

Snape convinced himself that Dumbledore was right. His mentor did not believe that the Dark Lord was truly gone, and that someday the dark wizard would return, perhaps even to full power. And if the Dark Lord did return to power, there would be no hiding his child from him. The dark wizard would want Harry like he would want all the Death Eater's children. And Severus could not, would not subject Harry to that evil wizard's malice and brutality.

What kind of father would he be if he allowed his only child to grow up amidst dark magic and dark wizards?

Mover, spy or no he would always have to endure the social stigma of being a Death Eater. Harry did not deserve to be judged that way and condemned for mistakes that were not his own.

He would not make a good father any way. There were too many shadows in his past and present and too many things that would put Harry in danger. He was short-tempered, too harsh with his words and did not know anything about children. He could be the worst father in the world. He could be but he won't be, not if he isn't a father in the first place.

Snape was afraid, not only of the thought of being a father, but he was also afraid that Harry would grow up like him; unkind, cold and bitter.

Yes, Dumbledore was right, he could not provide Harry with the protection the child needed. The blood protection was too important.

Harry didn't even belong to him. Harry didn't even carry his last name.

"I swear, Harry, I will always be there to protect you."

"Severus," Dumbledore urged.

"I won't be far. I will never be far away," Snape promised, ignoring Dumbledore. "You are a part of me child, nothing, not the Dark Lord and not the strongest magic in the word can take that away." Yet he knew he had to forget, his memory had to be altered. If anyone, the Dark Lord or any of the existing Death Eaters found out that Harry Potter was _his_ son…the ramifications would be unthinkable.

Harry yawned sleepily, completely unaware to the troubles surrounding him.

"That's right child, go to sleep now, papa will sing you a lullaby," Snape said with a heavy heart.

It was better this way, better safe than sorry.

Snape could only hope that Harry would forgive him. Tears rolled down Snape's face as began to sing the lullaby.

**1987 - #4, Privet Drive**

It was an average day, on an average Saturday in the not so average life of Harry Potter. After breakfast he was ordered to clear the table, wash the dishes and take out the rubbish. He was given a piece of toast and some cold, leftover eggs and told to eat quietly in his cupboard. At noon, his aunt pulled him out and made him to set the table, wash the potatoes and boil a pot the spaghetti.

That afternoon, Aunt Petunia told Harry to stay outside and water the garden.

"Make yourself scarce, I have guest today and I do not want you messing about."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry answered obediently.

Harry liked watering the garden because it meant he would be outside. Being outside was nice because the Dusleys, for the most part, stayed inside. Besides, all he had to do when watering the garden was stand there and aim the hose at the ground. He could play with the water too, so long as he was careful not to get too wet or mud on his clothes.

From the yard Harry could hear Uncle Vernon and Dudley's boisterous shouts as they cheered on their favourite wrestlers and booed the other teams.

Harry breathed in the refresh spring air and enjoyed the cool breeze that hit his skin. This was rare moment of peace and Harry was going to enjoy it while he could. Everyone was in a good mood today and too busy to pay him any mind. Aunt Petunia was having tea and gossiping with the neighbours, Uncle Vernon was watching the wrestling championship on the telly and Dudley's attention was divided between his Game Boy and the match.

Unfortunately for Harry, this light mood did not last.

Uncle Vernon`s favourite wrestler lost the match and the man became very irate. Vernon Dursley always took his anger out on the smaller people; when he was at work it was the secretaries and lower ranking employees but when he was at home that became his nephew, Harry.

Harry sniffed, wiping his eyes and nose on this sleeve. Uncle Vernon did not hit him very often and when he did it was usually no more than a hard cuff to his head. In fact, Harry got more beatings from his cousin`s friends than from his uncle. But when Uncle Vernon did decide to teach him a lesson Harry always ended up being sore for a couple of days.

Harry lay on his side and snuggled deeper into his blanket. It was not his fault the wrester lost the match, what did his uncle have to yell at him for? His relatives always blamed him for things that were not his fault. They say that his freakishness caused bad things to happen and that he was bad luck.

Harry did not want to be bad luck; he wanted to bring good fortune and make people happy.

The little boy wiped tears from his eyes. At least he had _not_ cried in front of his uncle and Dudley and made them call him a big baby. It wasn't fair. Dudley cried all the time; he'd wail and kick and nobody called Dudley a big baby. In fact, when Dudley threw a tantrum, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would immediately go over and asked him what was wrong and gave him whatever he wanted just so he would stop. If Harry threw a tantrum like that, he'd get it good.

The boy closed his eyes and after awhile he fell asleep listening to a voice in his head, singing softly.

**1991 – Gryffindor Common Room**

Ron turned around in his bed and tilted his head.

"Hey Harry, what's that song you're humming?"

"Hmm?"

"That song, what's that you're humming?"

"Oh…um, I don't know. Was I humming something?"

Ron stared at Harry with an expression that said, _uh...yeah, what planet were you on?_

"Never mind. So, you excited or what?" Ron said enthusiastically in a low voice because technically, they were supposed to be asleep.

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry answered.

"Just think! No one to us what to do and order us around, most of the time anyway!"

"I know, right?" Harry returned happily. No Dursleys for 8 months! No Dursleys for 8 months! No getting locked in the cupboard, no chores, and no getting chased by Dudley!

"Not gonna get homesick are you?" Ron teased. Earlier, his brothers teased him about getting homesick and said in front of everyone that if missed his 'mummy and daddy' and wanted to cry, that it was okay. The redhead blushed and announced that he would not be getting homesick; never ever ever! In fact, he was only too pleased to be relieved of his parents.

"No way!" said Harry. The boy was glad that he was going to spend more than half the year away from his relatives. That being said, however, Harry was very nervous. At home he did not like school because Dudley always got him in trouble and he didn't have a single friend. Even the teachers thought he was a troublemaker. Harry felt anxious, and even though he had a friend now he didn't know how long their friendship would last.

For the shy little boy, it was very scary coming into this whole new world he knew nothing about. What if he was bad at magic and can't do anything right? Would they expel him and send him home? He hadn't even begun to explore this new world yet and he already felt like he belonged. Well, at least he felt more welcomed here than he was ever at home. So Harry vowed that he would try extra hard to get good marks…or at least passing grades, so that they won't have to kick him out.

"I'm not getting homesick," Harry continued. "Why? Are you getting homesick already?"

"No I'm not," Ron whispered loudly. "But my mum is making me write her a letter after the first week. Egh. It's so annoying. I don't want to write a letter. It's not like she can't find out from my brothers anyway."

Harry faked a smile. He wished he had a mum to write to, or a dad, or anyone who wouldn't tear it to shreds and burn in the fireplace.

"Well…you're brothers might not tell the story right. So you better write her one just to make sure she has your side of the story, the right story of course."

"Hey! You're right. Knowing my brothers, they'll just get me in to trouble. Percy will exaggerate and tell them every single thing I did wrong. And Fred and George, well, who know what kind of story they'll come up with."

"See, am I right or am I right?"

"Thanks Harry, I never thought about that."

Harry grinned. He knew all about lying and writing lies. When he started primary, Aunt Petunia wrote the school a letter telling them how bad he was. She told them that he wasn't their child and that his mum and dad hadn't raised him properly. She wrote that he was a troublemaker and that he stole and lied and wasn't very smart. She told them to keep an eye on him and not to let him get away with bullying the other children, especially Dudley. They almost put him in a special class because of it. Every now and then Harry wished that he had been put into the special class; without Dudley around he might have made friends.

The two Gryffindor first-years chatted for awhile longer before one fell silent. Harry squinted his eyes and saw a dark motionless lump a few feet away. He assumed that Ron had fallen asleep.

The 11 year old took a deep breath in and let it out through his mouth. He was overwhelmed by all the attractions of the wizarding world and of Hogwarts. He was apprehensive about the first classes. But more than anything else, he was worried about keeping his friend and making new ones.

Eventually, the boy fell asleep and dreamed of a dream that brought him reassurance and comfort.

.

**June 1994 – Hogwart's Express**

"Bum bum bum bum, mmm mm…"

"Harry? Earth to Harry! He-llooooooo?"

"Huh? What?"

"Ok. Enough is enough mate, you're driving us all mad!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Ok, I'll give you the gist of it. You're always humming that bloody tune! Talk about getting a song stuck in your head."

"Oh…was I doing it again?"

Hermione nodded. "Are you alright?" She asked with concern.

"What is that song anyway?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I don't know. It's just this tune…or song. It's been stuck in my head since forever and I can't remember where I've heard it. But I know it's something important. Like…well, it's hard to explain…I just, I feel something..."

"You _feel _something? What does that even mean?"

"No idea now that I think about it. It's very comforting in a weird comforting sort of way…you know what I mean?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, then back to Harry.

"No," they both shook their heads.

Harry threw his hands up. "Great, just another clue that I'm going barmy."

"No you're not," said Hermione.

Harry sighed heavily. "I don't know why, but it's something meaningful. Sometimes, I just hear the song in my head, as if someone else is singing it to me. I hear it and I hear the words but whenever I try to write them down or think about them, they just sort of fade away."

"It's nothing, it's just stupid. I'm fine." Harry shrugged again and looked longingly out the window. He was worried about Sirius; would he be alright? Harry wished badly they had caught that nasty Pettigrew and proved his godfather innocent. He had been so close to having a family and a real guardian who cared about him. Now he's lost it all again.

The teenager continued to gaze out window and the beautiful scenery, but he was too lost in thought to see any of it.

**June 1996 – Hogwarts Express **

The Hogwarts express rumbled across the countryside, taking Harry farther away from his real home. It was going to be a difficult summer ahead. With Sirius gone Harry felt hopeless, like he was all alone in the world. Even though he still had Professor Dumbledore, Remus, his friends and the entire Weasley family…it was just not the same. Harry couldn't stop thinking of his godfather and without even realizing, he began to hum that familiar tune.

"I think it's a lullaby," Hermione suggested.

"What?"

"Harry, I think the song you're humming is a lullaby."

"A lullaby?" Harry echoed.

"Why would Harry be humming a lullaby?" Ron interjected.

"Well, maybe somebody sang it to him when he was a baby."

"Yeah right, like who, the Dursleys? They'd sooner tuck me in."

"No, I don't mean the Dursleys," said Hermione. "I meant when you were little, you know, before the Dursleys."

"You mean my parents?"

Hermione nodded cautiously, knowing that thin ice always accompanied Harry when they were talking about his parents.

"No way!" Ron declared tactlessly. "That was like 12 years ago. How could Harry remember something like that, he was only a baby."

"You'd be surprised Ron."

"Besides, who hums lullabies all day long anyway? I mean our parents sang for us when we were little, how come we don't remember none of it?"

Hermione shook her head at Ron. "_Because _Ron."

"Because my parents aren't around anymore," Harry finished for her.

An awkward silence fell over the compartment and for several moments nobody spoke a word.

Harry thought about what Hermione said. Could she be right? That unconsciously, he was remembering his parents singing to him? It wasn't so far-fetched; after all, he does remember his mother's death.

"I think you're right Hermione. I can recall some of the lyrics," said Harry as he began to sing as much as he could remember which was not much.

"Ohhh…kay," Ron started, trying to understand it all. "So…"

"You really think that I could be remembering this?" Harry asked.

"Mm-hmm."

Harry shook his head sceptically. But this memory wasn't like the other one. That one had been due to the Dementors. It wasn't the same. "I don't know. Most people don't remember things from when they were only a year old."

"I remember my mum telling me stories and singing me to sleep, albeit, I was much older. But I think you're remembering this because it's all you have."

"Plus you're not exactly…well normal," said Ron.

"Gee, thanks Ron."

The redhead smirked and shrugged. "What are friends for?"

Harry pushed Ron in the shoulder jokingly and they started roughhousing.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's entirely possible. I've heard of people remembering things from when they were very young, like a scent or a voice. And you said that it mes you feel better? That it comforts you right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there you go then. That's why you remember it, because it holds significance. Whenever you feel down or sad, the song just comes to you and you feel better afterwards. Remember last year? You were humming it all last year too. Ron and I tried to get your attention when the trolley came around, but you were staring out the window like you did just now, humming that exact same song."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You looked so peaceful and calm…after what happened. I didn't want to upset you again, so we left you alone."

"Oh…I didn't realize," said Harry quietly, his throat feeling constricted. "Now that I think about it, I was thinking about my parents…in the graveyard… and that just maybe, somehow they were there with me and not just…an echo."

Hermione bit her lip as she looked at Harry sadly. "It must have been something your mother sang to you."

Harry shook his head, "no…"

"No?"

"It was a man, my dad I think…" Harry explained.

"Oh well…that's nice."

"Yeah…yeah it is nice."

.

**June 1997 - Hogwarts Express **

"Good night my angel time to close your eyes…bum bum mmm mmm another day…"

"You know what; I think know that song…"

"You what?"

"I know that song, I heard it last summer and I was wondering why it sounded so familiar. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't remember for the life or me. Now I know! It's the same song you are humming all the time. It's a really nice song, actually."

"Is it? How does it go?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Um…let me think. It goes something like…_ '_Good night my angel time to close your eyes  
And save these questions for another day…" Hermione paused for several seconds. "…why don't I write it down for you?"

"Okay, that'd be great."

Hermione took out a quill and parchment from her bag and began writing down what she thought were they lyrics to Harry's song.

Ron and Harry both looked as she jotted down the lyrics in elegant writing.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Ron asked after a minute.

"Because I just remembered now. I mean, I've only heard it once before, at the shopping centre with my mum but…here," she said finishing up the last verse and handing the parchment to Harry. "I can't be sure, but I think that's it."

Ron took another peek at the long lines of lyric.

"You remember all that just from hearing it once at the mall?" he said in astonishment.

"Well, I liked the song."

"Huh, not only does she have a photographic memory, she can memorize song lyrics in a single minute, amazing." Ron shook his head. "You never cease to amaze me woman."

"Well thank you, Ron," Hermione said smiling. "So, what do you think Harry? It's the same one, yes?"

"I…Hermione I think you're right. The lyrics fit and everything…" Harry said as he read the lyrics out loud cheerfully, that is until he got to the second stanza.

"…I promised I would never leave you. And you should always know. Where ever you may go. No matter where you are…I never will be far away_…"_

"It's called Good Night, My Angel I think," Hermione announced. "Lovely song, isn't it?"

Very suddenly and out of the blue, Harry was upset. His emotions seemed creep up and overwhelm him. Had this been any other time, he might have been okay, but with the agony of Dumbledore's death still raw and vivid, it was just too much for him.

"Well, it doesn't matter now anyways, does it?" The teenager crumpled the parchment and threw it aside.

Hermione frowned at his sudden change in temperament. "Harry what are you doing? What's wrong?"

"They left me anyway, didn't they? They promised they'd always be there and they'd left anyway! They left me alone with the Dursleys, the very people who wanted nothing to do with me!"

"Harry, don't say that. You know you don't mean it. It was not their fault."

"Yes it is!" Harry's voice grew louder and he started to shout. "It is their fault. It's all their fault! If they hadn't been so busy fighting and working for the Order, they wouldn't have died! They'd still be here, like they promised."

"Harry, it's alright."

"They cared more about the war then they ever did about me!"

"Harry, that's not true."

Harry stood up abruptly "_Never far away_, yeah? Well you can't get as far away as dead!"

"Here!" Hermione picked up the crumbled parchment and straightened it out. "At least read…"

"I don't care about the bloody song!" Harry snapped and snatched the parchment from her hands, chucking it aside.

"Calm down, mate," Ron stood up as well, try to help.

"No! I hate them for leaving me. I hate them!"

"Oh Harry…"

"I hate my parents! I hate Sirius! And I hate Dumbledore!"

"No you don't."

"I'm going out for some fresh air," Harry stepped past Ron and opened the sliding door.

"Harry! Harry!"

But Harry didn't listen. He slammed the door shut behind him and stomped down the hall.

Harry moved quickly down the narrow corridor, ignoring and pushing aside whoever was in his way. He came to an isolated section at the end of the compartment and stood there looking into the distance and letting the wind blow away his tears.

**1998 – Shrieking Shack**

"Snape! Snape!" Harry shouted as he crouched down by his professor. "Professor please, we have to get out of here!"

"Potter," Snape gasped.

"Come on, we need you to get you out."

"No…" the dying man gasped. "No time…no...Potter. Listen."

Snape's entire body trembled and blood was pouring fast from the gaping wound in his neck. The man was losing consciousness and struggled to keep sane.

Harry was frantic. "What, what is it?"

"Take it…Potter! Take…it…"

And a silvery liquid like substance poured from Snape's eyes and nose.

"_Now,_ Potter."

Harry recognized the substance and hurried to conjure a flask and carefully collected the memory.

Snape, with his hands still clenched tightly in Harry's shirt, choked out. "Potter, forgive me."

Harry did a double take. "What?"

He stared at Snape, unable to take his eyes off the man's face. The potions master took this last opportunity and locked onto Harry's eyes.

Harry found himself pulled deep into the tunnel-like pupils. Eyes are the strongest part of an individual. They can convey emotions no words or even actions can. Snape's eyes were always cold and shone with a jagged gleam. There was no mistaking the emotions they expressed. But now they looked lifeless and still. And there was something in them Harry could not identify.

"Harry. Forgive me," Snape said in barely a whisper.

Harry opened his mouth but it was many seconds before any words came out, "….what?" His own green eyes, alive and vibrant, contrasted Snape's like light and dark.

The man's chest rose and fell with great difficulty.

"P…please."

Then a single tear fell and rolled down the side of his head.

Harry thought he'd stop breathing himself.

"Professor…"

"Harry…my son."

And just like that, Severus Snape breathed no more.

**2005 – Home**

Harry picked up his six month baby, his second child whom he dubbed Albus Severus

Even after all this time, life seemed surreal. For as long as he remembered, this had been what he wanted, a family. Getting here wasn't easy. When Harry was young, he always found it unfair how some people just got what they wanted and others had to fight tooth and nail. Harry belonged to the latter having to fight long and hard but it paid off; then reward was something wonderful. His family meant so much more to him because he knew he had to overcome so many hardships and obstacles to get where he is today. Harry appreciated everything he had and he knew not to take anything for granted, ever.

Ginny wasn't home, she was away on a girl's night out with well, the girls. Harry was stuck home to mind the children, but he didn't mind at all. On the day of their wedding, Harry had said that there was nothing he loved more than his Ginny and nothing would change that.

Then, Ginny gave him a little miracle called James and that changed everything. Little James, the moment he was born, staked a claim to a great chunk of Harry's heart. It was most unfair for this little baby to take more than his fair share of love and attention. Then came special Al who always wanted to be held by his papa. Al too stole a piece of his heart.

Harry smiled down at the baby, who was ogling back at him with large green eyes.

"Well now, baby boy. What do you say to closing those lovely eyes of yours and not opening them till mommy gets back? Hmm?"

The baby in his arms blabbed and whined crabbily.

"Be a good boy like your big brother and go to sleep? Please?"

Harry caught Al's tiny hand as it punched the air.

"Come now, daddy has to clean up that mess you and your brother made before your mother gets home."

The baby grunted something unintelligible and wiggled in Harry's arms.

"I'll tell you what, how about a lullaby. What do you say, Munchkin? Deal?"

Al was getting grouchier by the second, squirming around and complaining.

"I'll take that as a yes."

And so Harry began a lullaby to lull him to sleep.

**2007 – Severus Snape's Gravestone **

A witch and a wizard stood in front of Severus Snape's gravestone in the memorial park.

"I wonder sometimes."

"Wonder what?"

"How it would have turned out if he had raised me."

"You would have grown up to be greasy haired, mean and bat-like, just like your father," said Ginny.

Harry chuckled. "Ginny. I'm being serious."

"Well, so was I."

Harry smiled grimly and shook his head.

"I mean, it would have been nice to have a father. But things could have been so different; nothing would have been the same."

"I think that being a father would have changed him, a lot. Perhaps he wouldn't have been so hostile and cold. And maybe by growing up with Snape, you would not have been the man you are today. It would have changed a lot of things for better or for worse. You might have been in Slytherin, became friends with Draco Malfoy and married Pansy."

Harry made a face. "Ginny!"

"The point is that _that_ is not what happened. I don't know what could have happened. All I know is that _this_ is what happened; us little James, Al and Lily. Hermione is what happened and Ron and all your friends. All those adventures we had back in school, that's what happened."

Harry nodded. "I know. I know it's all in the past. I just wish sometimes that he had been the one to raise me. He would have been strict and harsh but he would have been there. All I needed was someone to be there."

Ginny stroked Harry's arm. "I understand."

"He left me everything you know. In his will, some things went to Malfoy but other than that it's all mine. He gave me everything he had."

"I know."

"I like to think that he cared."

"If he didn't, he wouldn't have protected you and he wouldn't have done what he did."

Harry's eyes began tearing up as he looked down at the headstone. "I don't understand him at all. Why didn't he just tell me?"

"I think he was afraid to tell you. You two were always so hostile towards one another. He afraid of your reaction."

Harry didn't say anything. What would have his reaction been?

"You would not have been pleased about it," Ginny said and paused before speaking again. "Dumbledore corrected his memory at the end of 6th year, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I don't think there was time either; don't you remember how hectic those last days were? And then you and Hermione and Ron went on the hunt for Horcruxes. We all believed that he was the traitor. There was just no time to sit down for a long talk and explain _everything_…to get all our feelings out and not have any misunderstandings."

"Yeah…I, I suppose. He was afraid."

Harry's brows knitted together as he recalled that night in the Shrieking Shack 5 years ago. "I remember that night like it was yesterday. I remember looking into his eyes and seeing fear. But it wasn't fear of dying, I don`t think he was ever afraid of that. Rather, it was fear that I would reject him. I saw regret too, but also sincerity and kindness and love. And then, I saw him die…" Harry trailed off.

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand.

"its okay, Harry."

A cool autumn breeze picked up the fallen leaves. It had been five years since the war, Harry had went to therapy, overcame his PTSD and learned to let go. He still had nightmares sometimes, but they weren't nearly as bad or as often as they had been straight after the war. There was just one more thing he could never get over…

"Do you know how many times I wished he'd lived? Damn bastard! Just when I wanted him alive, he goes and dies!" Harry bit out and shook his head. "Even after all this time, I still think about that. I don't understand at all. I mean, I've accepted my parent's death, I've accepted Sirius and Remus' death, and I've long gotten over Dumbledore, Fred, and Hedwi, Dobby and the others. Why can't I just let him go?"

Ginny nodded understanding and sympathy.

"You never got to know him like you did Dumbledore and Remus and the others. You never knew the real him, the Severus Snape who didn't have that hard demeanour and mean attitude. You didn't have the chance to have him be a father to you. I mean with Sirius, he got to love you, care for you and worry his head off about you…before he passed away. It's not the same with Snape."

Harry took a deep breath in and shuttered out a sigh.

"Just remember him. In the end that's all he wanted, was for you to forgive him but not forget."

"I won't forget. How could I. He was my father."

"Then do what you did for Sirius. Take your time to grieve but then it's time move on, live and be happy. Remember but don't dwell on the past. Sirius wanted that and I'm sure your father wanted it too, especially after he spent so many years dwelling on his own past, he wouldn't want you to do the same thing."

Harry nodded lightly. Ginny was right, as usual. It was time to move on. Ginny was already pregnant with their third child, a little girl whom they agreed would be Lily Luna. "You're right; it is time to move on." Harry let out a small chuckle, he put his arms around his wife. "I knew there was a reason I married you."

Ginny replied by sending him a mock glare.

"The feeling's mutual, partner." After all, it was Harry who helped her get over Fred.

Husband and wife looked down at the gravestone. Ginny leaned into Harry's shoulder and began to sing, "Good night my angel time to close your eyes, and save these questions for another day…" and not soon after, Harry joined her. They sang in unison until the song was finished. Harry paid his last respects and the couple left hand in hand.

For as long as he lived Harry never forgot that song or the man who sang it. He sang it to his children, and they to their children and on and so on. It was true. Lullabies do go on and on. They never die and that's how family, those who are here and those who are gone, should be.

The end

Review please


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